Save The Last Dance
by Lady of the Wolves
Summary: What if Alanna had said yes to Jon's proposal in the desert? Would she have married him and become Queen? Are Alanna and George still meant to be? This chapter and the next reveal her decision...COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

  
  
Save The Last Dance  
  
  
by Lady of the Wolves  
  
Dedicated to Madeline  
  
  
  
  
  
The vivid desert sun, ablaze with crimson and gold fire, peeked up from behind  
the endless dunes of saffron sand. Riders in blue and white robes flew across the terrain like the wind on their fierce mounts, bred for conditions such as these. Slowly, as the sun ascended, the group slowed the horses to a brisk walk to keep them cool. The entire party, consisting of all males save for one, began to scout for the next oasis.  
Alanna of Trebond and now Olau, the only female knight and member of this group, patted her horse's neck gratefully. Moonlight, her golden mare, had been running since the previous evening, when the group had departed from the tribe of the Bloody Hawk on their way to Corus, the capital of Tortall.  
Jonathan of Conte(?), the heir for the throne and the lover of Alanna, rode quickly to catch up to Moonlight. His ebony hair shone in the mid-morning sun and his white, even teeth flashed as he smiled with love at Alanna, who returned the gesture weakly.  
"You're quiet this morning, Lioness," he commented as they continued to ride together. "Something the matter?"  
"Ye-um, nothing's wrong, Jon," she replied in a fake but convincingly pleasant manner. "I'm just, um, thinking."  
Jon smiled. "My Princess can't wait to say 'I do', now can she?" he teased. "I knew it was only maidenly shyness that delayed your consent," he said arrogantly.  
Alanna's grip on her reins clenched for a moment in anger. This behavior, which sometimes dominated his loving nature towards her, usually caused arguments. "Yes, I'm dreaming about becoming Queen," she replied sarcastically. Jonathan shot her a hard look and she faced her other side.  
"Alanna," he warned. She turned to face him defiantly, but softened as he kissed her gently and smiled again. "I'm sorry. But you are looking forward to the wedding, are you not?" he persisted.  
Alanna hesitated, but replied, "Of course." Satisfied, Jonathan rode ahead to the front of the group to talk with some official.  
Alanna sank back into the saddle and sighed. She was still unsure about the whole marriage-to-royalty thing. The previous evening, things had gotten tense when they had a fight about the same subject. But I love him, she told herself. And if I don't take him now, he'll never be mine. He'll marry some beautiful princess and be done with the likes of me, she told herself firmly.  
But the thought of having a child soon after marriage still made her uneasy. She was young and strong, and didn't want to be slowed down by motherhood. Well, maybe I can talk to Jon about it, she thought worriedly.  
Myles of Olau, the Lioness's newly adoptive father, frowned at the young female  
knight. She was obviously debating something with herself. He wasn't too sure about her answer to Jon's proposal. She had told him that she wasn't quite ready for marriage, and here she was, off to become Princess. Was something the matter?  
Myles urged his horse forward so he could speak with his daughter. Alanna was deep in thought. As he placed his hand on her shoulder, the young woman jumped, startled. A laugh from Jonathan sounded in front of them.  
"Congratulating the bride-to-be, Myles?" asked Jon. Myles gave a swift, happy nod and Jon faced forward again.  
"Alanna?" asked Myles gently. The Lady Knight's cheeks were red with embarrassment.  
"What?"   
"Are-are you sure about marrying Jon? You told me that you didn't think you were ready for marriage, and I don't want you to be unhappy. Maybe you should reconsider-"  
"Myles, I'm not quite sure about anything now! Don't make me start regretting my decision now! I'm not exactly in the mood!" With that, the Lioness galloped to another place to ride, where she could think, her red hair flying out behind her.  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Tamora Pierce characters, they belong to *gasp* Tamora Pierce! I own the plot. Special thanks to Madeline!  
  
Everyone, I am really getting sick of some of the disgusting fics under this section. Kel and Alanna and Daine being prostitutes or lap dancing? (No offense everyone)  
COME ON! How do you think Tamora Pierce would feel? So I'm trying to help make this meaningful again.  
  
Author's Note: Hi people I'm back! Maybe I've been confusing you with my writing; you know, I started out with "I Do" and "What's Meant To Be", two serious D/N fics, then I started with humor, and then that awful one about the offspring of Alanna...heh heh heh? Well, I'm on the serious track again, but look out for a Quest of Tortall, a funny ficcy, by me coming soon! Thanks!  
  
  
  
*Lady of the Wolves  
  



	2. All That Glitters

  
  
Chapter One: All That Glitters  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, yada yada, they belong to the wise and powerful Tamora Pierce, and I own the plot. So there!  
  
Author's Note: I am so insulted! *Sniff sniff* Well, not exactly. But don't judge a book by its cover. Or a story by its author. I may be totally for A/G, but what about....well, I shan't (ooh, big word for me there) reveal the plot, but think....outside the box! Thanks for reviewing! Oh, and to Lady Carlee, I was going to work on the Wild Magic Bloopers but I lost the disk it was saved on!  
  
  
  
Waves of lilac silk cascaded to her feet, clad in silver slippers. The fabric tightly hugged her curves, making it hard to breathe. "Now this is definitely not comfortable," Alanna the Lioness wheezed as she examined herself in the full length mirror in the corner of her room.  
  
But, she noted with satisfaction, she did look quite elegant in the silver and lavender gown Jon had selected for that evening. Her coppery hair was pinned up in a delicate-looking arrangement atop her head. And the final touch...the crown. A silver piece of art, consisting of twirling curlicues of the finest silver in all of Tortall, adorned her head. A ruby stood out proudly in the crown, announcing without a word that she was the Princess.  
  
The maid dressed in a dark cotton dress with a white smock nodded in agreement. "Yes, ye're certainly fit to be the Princess, o' course, once ye're touched up a bit," she noted, making Alanna suddenly angry.  
  
Alanna whirled around and faced the maidservant. "Excuse me? You're saying that I'm fit to be the Princess because I can be made to look nice in a dress?"  
  
The woman backed away nervously. "No, no, milady. I was just saying how nice you look, that's it, I promise, by the Goddess! Please don't hurt me!"  
  
Alanna's face softened. "Don't be upset, I wouldn't hurt you because-," the maid was slowly backing towards the door, her eyes huge in fright, "-wait, what's wrong? Did I-"  
  
The servant had turned and bolted for the door, stumbling over the threshold and high-tailing it down the hall. Alanna ran to the door and was able to see the obviously terrified, for what reason she had no idea of, turn the corner and go out of her range of vision.  
  
She turned and went back to the mirror, which she leaned on again. Alanna sighed, remembering how King Roald and Queen Lianne had taken the news that she, the "illegal" Lady Knight, was to be Jon's wife and the next co-ruler of Tortall. His parents, Roald especially, had been red with fury while he yelled at Jon. It had taken Myles, Jonathan, and even Duke Gareth to help persuade him to give Alanna even a chance. But Jon had stood by her through it all. "I love her," he stated simply, and refused to take it back or to change it.   
  
She was leaning on the mirror, smiling to herself and thinking of Jonathan when Faithful interrupted, Didn't I tell you that you'd fall for the prince?  
  
Alanna whirled around and glared at her cat. "Never could give me a moment's peace, now could you?" she demanded. Her cat smiled, as only cats can, then leaped off the satiny bedspread and left the room.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * *   
  
  
Twirling through the crowd of courtiers, looking like brightly colored birds in their new clothes in celebration of Prince Jonathan's betrothal, Alanna was escorted by her fiancee to the thrones of the king and queen. She felt a slight flutter in her stomach; tonight she was to be accepted into the Royal family; this was it.  
  
Feeling the tension in the stiff way she held her arm, Jon squeezed her hand gently. "Don't worry, my love," he whispered. "I promise they don't bite."  
  
Alanna smiled weakly and clutched his arm tightly.  
  
Whispers from the crowd made her wonder if everyone was talking about her. From the rude look on some of the more beautiful court ladies faces', she could tell easily that not everyone was pleased to have a new Princess.  
  
Reaching the King and Queen, Jon released her arm and swept down into a bow. Alanna copied him, only in difference she made a curtsy with her skirts. Mistress Eleni, her friend George's mother, had been at the palace assisting Duke Baird, the chief healer, and had weakened to Alanna's pleads for help.  
  
"Rise, my son, and Lady Knight," King Roald commanded, standing up himself. The King was a powerful figure, even though his raven hair had slowly begun to wane into a slate-gray color and his once-trim waistline had grown. Clad in the Royal colors of red-and-gold, his expertly embroidered tunic bore designs of twirling leaves. His face, wrinkled from worrying and concerning himself about his people, smiled kindly down at her, though the Lady Knight suspected it to be a false act of benignancy towards her.  
  
"Lady Alanna of Trebond," Alanna suspected that he called her Lady to remind her that that was what she was to become, "my son has chosen you to be his bride, the future Queen of Tortall, the Princess. It is my duty to ask you this question, and then to join you to our family. Do you love Jonathan?"  
  
Alanna's "Yes" rang out through the ballroom almost immediately after the old king was finished, and a roar arouse through the vast masses of Tortallan subjects. Jonathan took her hand and they kneeled together as King Roald gently laid his scepter against her shoulder and she became the honorary Princess of Tortall.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
  
Jonathan and Alanna stopped momentarily to inhale fresh air into their burning lungs, then resumed kissing. The Lady Knight and the Prince were in Alanna's room, several days after the ceremony. And, contrary to how she had been expecting it, the life of a Princess wasn't that bad.  
  
True, she had snuck out to practice and train in the yards, and had used her Gift to light the candles instead of waiting for the servants, and also had written letters to the people of the Bloody Hawk by herself. If anyone had found that out, she admitted only to herself, they wouldn't find the Princess very ladylike.  
  
But this wasn't the time for that. Jon sighed and rose into a sitting position, pulling the Lioness into his arms as he did. She gently ran her hands over the hair covering his broad, bare chest and he let loose a small moan of pleasure. Alanna turned and rested her head on his broad shoulder while he stroked her back. "Now, why ever did you have so many misgivings about this?" he whispered, making her grin and look into his face for another kiss.  
  
It was true; Jon had been incredibly sweet and loving during the time she had spent at the palace as his bride-to-be. He hadn't demonstrated any of the awful behavior that had made her so unsure of her answer in the desert at all. It's strange, she thought to herself, but aren't all men?  
  
Jonathan turned and gently pushed her back onto the bedspread, making her fiery hair fan out like a court beauty's skirt. He positioned himself on top of her and kissed her again, harder this time. Suddenly, though, the experience with the maid struck a chord in Alanna's memory. She pulled away and gasped, "Jon, I need to ask you something."  
  
Jon rolled off her and kicked off his new leather boots. "Is something the matter?" he asked quizzically. His face was a total question mark.  
  
The Princess sighed. "A few nights ago-some time, oh yes-the night of the initiation, I was being helped get ready-"  
  
"-In a stunning gown, might I add," the Prince added slyly.  
  
"By a maid, actually. There's something I wanted to ask you about her."  
  
Jonathan rolled over again and sat up. "Alanna, there are hundreds of maids in the palace alone. You can't expect me to keep track of the all." His face was hard and cold, almost angry. Involuntarily her temper began to rise.  
  
"I know that. But when she was finished, she said something like, 'You're fit to be Princess because you look so lovely', and when I demanded what that meant, she became frightened and took off down the hall."  
  
"Well, you do have quite a, ahm, violent reputation here, my darling," Jonathan countered. "She was probably afraid you'd hurt her-"  
  
"Hurt her? Jonathan, what kind of a person do you think I am?" Alanna stood up angrily, almost tripping on the hem of her dress.  
  
Jonathan stood up too. "Alanna, don't overreact. You yourself said that you hoped the "scandal" with Roger would die down, didn't you? She was probably only a commoner with and ear for gossip."  
  
Alanna sank back into the bed, her face still burning with anger. Jonathan snuggled up beside her, though she was as still as stone. He wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her neck invitingly, but she shrugged him off.  
  
"Not tonight, Jon."  
  
Jonathan of Conte opened his mouth in shock. No woman had ever told that to him, not ever! But Alanna wasn't joking; he could see it in the way she set her jaw and stared straight ahead defiantly. Without a sound he swept off the bed, snatched up his boots and was gone.  
  
For some time, she had no idea how long, she sat there and shut her eyes tightly, willing the tears not to come. "I am not a baby!" she whispered angrily. "And I don't care about him!"  
  
"Who, me?"   
  
From the doorway came a voice that Alanna hadn't heard, but missed, since she had left Corus for the first time. A very important someone who had expressed his feelings for her before Jonathan had.  
  
"Hello, Alanna."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. All That Shines

  
  
  
Chapter Two: All That Shines  
  
  
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, they belong to Tamora Pierce and I'm not stealing them! Just...borrowing!  
  
Author's Note: What did I tell you, all you A/J people? Eh? Eh? That's what I thought. But please remember that I haven't insured that this will stay that way.  
Alanna is wearing a lot of dresses because she's in the palace, and as Princess during those times in Tortall, she would have to! She said in the real 3rd book that they'd probably make her stop dressing comfortably. Plus, do you remember in the real The Woman Who Rides Like A Man, where when she went to George's, she wanted to wear dresses? Well, that's why she's wearing them a lot.  
Thanks for all the reviews! Now, on to find who the *mystery* person is. So read on!  
  
  
  
  
  
George Cooper stepped from the doorway into the flickering candlelight of Alanna's room.  
  
Fighting back a gasp of surprise despite the fact that she had recognized his voice, Alanna could only stare. Was it her imagination, or was he angry, like Jon had been? She stammered for a moment, tried again, but could not speak.  
  
"Ye didn't answer my question." There was no mistake, he was obviously mad about something.  
  
Alanna found her voice. "No, I wasn't saying that I didn't care about you." She sighed. "It's Jonathan. We-"  
  
"If ye didn't care so much about him, why's it you became his Princess?" George demanded.   
  
So this is why he's angry, Alanna realized. Some time, quite a long time ago it was, before she and Jon had become lovers, George had expressed his true feelings towards her. On that day he had told her that she would be his bride one day. She, and no other.  
  
Alanna swallowed. "George, listen to me-"  
  
"No, ye listen to me! Alanna, I-" George stopped. His ruddy face was flushed with anger. He tried to compose himself.  
  
Easing herself off the bed, Alanna walked over to him in her delicate slippers (she'd have preferred boots, actually) and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "George, you know that I love you. But not in the way I love Jon. I'm sorry."  
  
The anger returned to George's hazel eyes as he removed her hand from his broad shoulder. "No, Alanna. It's I who ought to be sorry. I never shoulda-" he broke off and turned away. "Good-bye, then," he said abruptly, and turned to go.  
  
"No!" Alanna cried, not realizing that she said it out loud. George turned around and gave her a quizzical look.  
  
"What's it now?" he asked.  
  
She hesitated. "We haven't seen each other for a long time. Won't you stay a while?" Inside she chided herself, noticing how awfully formal and princess-like she sounded.  
  
George sighed. "Alanna, I don't-you just-I shouldn' stay-" But when she caught his hand and he gazed into her deep violet eyes that still made his feel fuzzy inside, he sighed and nodded.  
  
The Lioness smiled, relieved. "So how goes things with the Rogue?"  
  
The King of Thieves snorted and plopped into a straight-backed, ornately carved chair. Frowning, he tried to get comfortable, but the chair was designed to teach ladies to sit properly, and it was impossible. "Well, I managed to calm down them in Port Caynn, bu' it wasn't so easy when I came back here and discovered that you'd-" he broke off.  
  
Alanna felt her temper surging and couldn't control it. "Enough! Stop criticizing my decisions! If you were really my friend, you'd be happy for me!" Her insides; her heart, her mind, were spinning and burning with anger and some indescriable feeling she couldn't name.  
  
George leapt up out of his chair, knocking it over, eyes flashing and stared at her angrily for a moment before sweeping out of the room.  
  
Alanna just stood there, waiting as her emotions subsided.   
  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Sweat rolled off her face as Alanna continued to practice hand-to-hand combat on the wooden and straw dummy. The exhilaration from the fight cooled her anger. Anger from what? she asked herself. George had overreacted; she hadn't ever promised herself to him.  
  
"As if that would happen," she snorted. The idea of ever promising her hand in marriage to someone was utterly ridiculous in her case.  
  
"What would happen?" Alanna jumped a foot into the air and landed on the gloor with a thump. A laugh came from behind her and she looked to see who it was.  
  
Jon, with his loving smile stretched out a hand to help her up. She hesitated, then pushed aside her anger and accepted. Roughly pulling her into his arms, he held her tightly and brought her face close to his. Searching in her purple eyes, he frowned.  
  
Alanna sighed. Jonathan always knew when something was wrong. "Well?" he prompted. The Lady Knight placed her hands on his chest and closed her eyes. Kissing her nose, Jonathan asked silently what was wrong.  
  
"It's George," she explained, "he showed up yesterday and was angry."  
  
"Angry because?" he questioned.  
  
"You and me." She pulled away, but he wouldn't put her down until he had kissed her thoroughly.  
  
"If he's so angry, and you're so, I don't know, why are you here?" The practice court was empty at this hour of the morning; no one else was there. Moonlight gleamed in silver streams through a window.  
  
Alanna turned and picked up the staff she had been using earlier. Examining the wood grain beneath her fingers, she sighed. "I was so angry, and now-now I just....I wanted to vent my anger." Stepping back, she tossed the staff to him, and momentarily startled, he caught it, then grinned.  
  
"Should have figured, Princess," he replied, grinning. But then the grin faded. Alanna immediately looked down and forlorn, then a hard look came onto her face and she turned her face away. "What's wrong, Alanna?" he asked softly, moving over to stroke her cheek.  
  
Alanna started to pull away, but allowed herself to be pulled into his arms. Wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her hands on his broad shoulders, she sighed with content. "I don't know, Jon...it's just...I'm so confused. And I thought becoming a knight would solve my problems!"  
  
With a laugh, Jon released her and tossed the staff back to her, then grabbed another from a nearby shelf. Moving inward to strike, Alanna blocked his blow then returned with an attack of her own. Swiftly and silently, save for the noise of wood against wood, the two knights fought with the weapons. As the sun began to rise and both were tiring, Jon moved in with all his strength and made Alanna drop her staff, then cornered her against the wall.  
  
The Lady Knight giggled. "You win," she said sleepily.   
  
Jon grinned cockily. "Well, actually, we both win, Lady Knight." Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her back to the main palace and into her room.  
  
  
  
So.....what should happen next? Who will Alanna get with now, or will she stay with Jon? YOU decide. Review please!  
~Lotw  
  
  



	4. All That Sparkles

Author's Note: I know that I haven't written anything in a long time, I'm really sorry. But I have had SO MUCH homework and so many tests recently that I couldn't find the time to put up a new chapter...until now! Okay, I am STILL an A/G fan, but, as I said, you, the reviewers/readers, will decide who everyone's favorite Lioness will end up with. And please don't send me annoying e-mails! The horror! Aaaaggghhhh!  
  
Ugh, this chapter is chock full of A/J fluff...excuse me while I go throw up. But I am NOT going to write any PG-13 romance...at least I hope it's not. Oh well, there's action in the next chapter!  
  
Disclaimer: The characters, thus far, belong to Tamora Pierce. I own the plot.   
  
  
  
Chapter Three: All That Sparkles  
  
  
Brilliant morning sunlight streamed through the clear glass windows to shine on Alanna's face. Grumbling, she opened one eye, blinked in surprise, then remembered that she was in Jon's bed.  
  
Rolling over, the Lady Knight could feel Jon's firm hold around her waist. She snuggled into his chest, rubbing her fingers through the soft black hair on his chest.  
The young prince sighed in pleasure and pulled her face close to his for a good-morning kiss. "Sleep well?" he murmured, running fingers through her fiery  
locks.  
  
"Ah...not really. I'm sore from the beating I let you give me last night," she teased, sitting up and stretching. Jon grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist again, hugging her tightly, then releasing. "I thought you took me back to my room," she commented, rising and striding over to her clothes on the floor.  
  
Jon watched contentedly. "Well, this will be your room, after the wedding." At the mention of the wedding, Alanna froze, then pulled her shirt over her head.  
  
"Jon...about the wedding," Alanna stared, but Jonathan had come over and kissed her. Heat rushed through her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his passion.  
  
"What about our wedding, my princess?" asked the Prince, kissing Alanna again and again. She melted like butter at his warm smile and gave in to his kisses.  
  
  
*****************   
  
  
Whistling to herself, Alanna headed down the stairs to the stables. She hadn't taken care of Moonlight for a while now, and she hoped that her flaxen mare wasn't mad at her too.  
  
Swinging around the corner, Alanna almost ran headfirst into Stefan, the chief hostler. "I've got a message for ye," Stefan mumbled, shoving a piece of parchment in her hand, then turning the corner quickly.  
  
Puzzled, Alanna headed to Moonlight's stall and leaned against it. Her mare reached out her long neck and nuzzled Alanna's shoulder. Patting her neck, Alanna unfolded the slip Stefan had given her.  
  
Alanna (the letter read),  
  
If you ever come to your senses, I'll be at the   
Dancing Dove for the next week. Then I'm off  
to Tyra to talk to the rogues there. No one's   
supposed to know this, but I figured that I could  
tell you. Be a smart lass and come talk to me.  
  
Love,   
George  
  
Sighing, Alanna stuffed the paper into her breeches. She had enough to worry about, with the wedding and Jon and being a princess.  
  
"How's a ride sound to you?" she asked Moonlight, leading the mare out of her stall. Moonlight nickered her pleasure and Alanna complied, saddling and mounting the animal.  
  
It was easy to forget your troubles when riding a fast horse on a beautiful day, Alanna decided, her hair blowing behind her like a waving banner. I might as well go see George and straighten this whole thing out, she decided, not wanting to lose a friend like George.  
  
She was so contented by the day and her ride that she didn't bother noticing the trail of wafting smoke arising from amid the city of Corus.  
  
But as she neared the Dancing Dove, she could tell that something was wrong. There was no Dancing Dove. The charred remains of a chimney and a stone floor was all that was left after the fire struck, she heard a shopkeeper telling one of the King's Own.  
  
Nearly paralyzed with shock, Alanna clumsily dismounted and ran forward. The inn was completely demolished. She ran right into the officer from the King's Own.  
  
"Alanna!" said the officer, grabbing her arms and helping her to stand. Looking up into the face of Raoul, her friend, she tried to control the sudden threat of tears.  
  
"What happened here, Raoul?" she asked roughly, turning away from the ruins.  
  
"Looks like someone set fire to it. Probably a rogue," he said, dropping his voice.  
  
"Where's George? Did anyone die?" she asked, thinking of George's note.   
  
"Not that we can tell. The place appeared to be empty." Seeing the shock on Alanna's face, he nodded. The Dancing Dove was never empty.  
  
The Lioness was at a loss for words. Raoul sighed and began scribbling down on a tablet as she stood there, staring at what used to be the Dancing Dove.  
  
"Alanna!"  
  
She whirled around and saw Jon striding toward her, his face grim. Suddenly it was too much. "Oh, Jon," she whispered, allowing him to sweep her into a tight hug.   
  
"Where's George?" he asked, stroking her hair gently.  
  
"I don't know. He's not here. Oh, what if-"   
  
"Don't torture yourself like that, Alanna," Jon whispered. "George can take care of himself." He released her, then kissed her.   
  
"I'd feel better if I knew where he was," she admitted. Pulling out the sheet of parchment, she stared at it for a moment. "He said that in a week he was going to Tyra, but-"  
  
"Let me see that!" Jon snatched the paper and scanned it eagerly. Alanna snatched it back angrily.  
  
"Alanna, he could have been kidnapped by these Tyran rogues! This note could bring him back!" Jon gave her a hard look then turned to the officer who had come up to him with news.  
  
Alanna turned around, wishing that she was invisible. "This is too much," she whispered, fighting tears, then straightened. She'd get to the bottom of this!  
  
  
*****************  
  
  
Alanna turned to smile at Jon as he gently massaged her back. "That feels really good," she whispered, bending her head back to smile at him.  
  
"I know what feels even better," Jon whispered, pulling her in for a close kiss.  
  
Alanna flopped back on the bed and Jon stretched out beside her. "Jon...when we were in the desert, why were you so moody?"  
  
Jon opened his mouth angrily, then stopped and laughed. "I guess I was," he admitted. "I don't know; but I think that I had been so sure that you'd just say yes and we could go home. Like in a fairy tale."  
  
Alanna smiled at him. "I did say yes," she reminded him, eyes sparkling.  
  
Jon returned the smile, full of love. "And you don't know how much that means to me, Lioness," he whispered, closing his cobalt eyes and dipping his face down to hers for a long kiss.  
  
She pulled away, grinning. "I have some idea," she replied as he positioned himself on top of her. The Lady Knight reached up for a kiss.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Dun dun dun...a cliffhanger! Well, sort of. I'll write more soon! I know what will happen, it's just a matter of putting it on paper. Please review! 


	5. All That Shimmers

Author's Note: I know that it has taken me longer to get this chapter up then I said it would...but the longer you leave your story up with no new chapters, the more reviews you get! And I just love reviews...*hint hint*  
  
ANYWAY...I had this great, er, well, interesting end planned out for all of you A/J maniacs out there, but then a bunch of A/G people reviewed, so I'm stuck. Maybe I'll consult someone out there on their opinion. Is it just me, or are there a lot more girls on this site than guys?  
  
I got the title, by the way, from the movie "Save The Last Dance." It was going to be called (my story) "All That Glitters," but I came home from seeing that movie and called it that without thinking. So I kept it! That, by the way, is a pretty good movie.  
  
  
Oh, and if you want to put my stories on your webpage, PLEASE contact me before you do! They belong to me! I wrote them! Ask before you take them unless I have given you permission to just use them, like I have given to certain people.  
  
  
Chapter Four: All That Shimmers  
  
  
  
  
The next day dawned cloudy with the threat of rain. Alanna sat up and stretched, rubbing her eyes to rid them of sleep. Jon was still asleep next to her, gently snoring with his mouth slightly open.  
  
A grin on her face, the Lady Knight quickly dressed and pulled her crimson, shoulder length hair back and tied it at the base of her neck. She slipped out of the room noiselessly. Hastily making her way to the stables, the Lioness thoroughly groomed her golden mare. Moonlight nickered softly as Alanna brushed her already shining coat until it gleamed like the sun.   
  
As she finished rubbing down her mount, an idea came to her. Stefan, the chief hostler, had been the one who had given her George's note. Surely he would know where George had gone, she reasoned to herself. Leading Moonlight back to her stall, she secured the door, turned around, and came face to face with Stefan.  
  
"Stefan!" Alanna said by way of greeting. The hostler sighed and set down the bridles he had been carrying.  
  
"I knew ye'd be looking for me," Stefan mumbled, looking away and reminding Alanna of a shy horse. The Lioness frowned. Stefan was usually never shy like this.  
  
"Where is he, Stefan?" she demanded, setting down the curry comb she had been using. The hostler looked away again, avoiding her piercing gaze.  
  
"Who? George? I don't know."  
  
"Where is he?!" Alanna cried, shoving the man against the stable wall. She released him and tried to calm down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - I'm just upset." She sighed.  
  
Stefan backed away cautiously. "I don' know where he is," the man admitted. "But after he gave me tha' note, he took off like he was being chased by the Black God himself."  
  
Alanna leaned against a beam and sighed. Someone had to be after George, she decided. "I think someone's after him," she said softly.   
  
"Well, I won' doubt it, not after the Dancin' Dove bein' burned and then disappearin' like he did." Stefan ran his hand over the coarse stubble on his chin. "But I have no idea where he's at."  
  
Alanna thanked Stefan for what information he gave her and watched as he scurried off. It's almost like he knows something that he doesn't want to say, Alanna mused. She turned and ran up the stairs back to the palace.  
  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
  
Muttering to herself nonchalantly, Alanna pored over the thick, dusty maps. Following her finger, she drew a path from the palace to where the Dancing Dove once lay, then to Tyra.   
  
"You remind me of myself, dear sister!"  
  
The Lady Knight whirled around. Laughing with joy, she embraced the red-haired man of her own height roughly. "I haven't seen you for a long time," she said, clapping him on the back. "What brings you to Court?"  
  
Alanna's twin brother Thom grinned and plopped down into an armchair. He grinned innocently. "Why, my only sister is to be wed - and to the crown prince of Tortall, at that. Of course I came by!"  
  
The Lioness turned her back to her brother. She loved Jon, but the thought of the wedding that loomed in her future still made her uneasy. "Don't bring that up. I've enough on my mind at the moment," she groaned, returning to the maps.  
  
Thom knew better than to bring it back up. "So what are you looking for?" he questioned, eyeing the maps with moderate interest.   
  
"It's George," she began.   
  
"Your Rogue friend?" her brother inquired. She nodded, rolling up the map she had been using and unrolling a different scroll.  
  
"He's missing. The tavern where he stays burned down a few days ago. And I need to talk to him."   
  
Thom rose and gave his sister a quick, tight hug. "You'll find him," he assured her. "You're the Lioness. Just think of what you've already done. Finding one man will be simple!"  
  
Alanna smiled and shoved her twin playfully. "Of course I'll find him," she declared.  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce owns the characters, except for the ones that are mine. I am not trying to claim ownership over any of them. The plot is mine.  
  
And NO OFFENSE to anyone who likes them, but if I read just ONE MORE FORSAKEN DAINE/JON FIC THEN I AM GOING TO GO INSANE!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	6. All That Glimmers

Author's Note: It's me again, after about...I don't know, two weeks of torturous waiting, I'm sure. I had lots of stuff to do after winter break, so I'm sorry that it took me so long to put up more...until now!  
  
  
I was most offended by reading *certain* reviews from a person (who threatened me to keep this A/J; gee, who could that be?) in past fics....how can someone not like Daine? Or Daine and Numair as a couple? What's wrong with these people?!?! If you personally don't like Daine or Daine and Numair together, just do NOT mention that in your review   
*hint, hint*, okay? Thank you!  
  
  
And the peasants rejoiced!  
  
  
  
Chapter Five: All That Glimmers  
  
Running lightly up the steps to Jon's bedroom, Alanna clutched the large scroll map tightly to her chest. She'd planned to share her new theory about where George could be with her royal betrothed, sure that he would readily accept her ideas. Reaching the door, she combed back her coppery hair and pushed her way into the room.  
  
"Jon?" she inquired, gazing around the large room that appeared to be empty. Her visit with her brother Thom had left her in a good mood and she was feeling full of life and confidence. "Jon? Are you in here?" she called again, making her way into the semi-dark room, lighting a candle with her violet Gift. She had turned around to leave when she heard Jon's reply.  
  
"Alanna?" An extravagantly dressed Jonathan entered his bedroom from the dressing room. Dressed in royal finery and the kingdom's best silk, Jon was a very handsome specimen indeed.   
  
Beaming at her lover, Alanna ran over and gave him a quick, light kiss. "So where have you been all day?" he asked, pulling her close for a fast embrace.   
  
She remembered the map and held it up. His blue eyes met hers and in answer to his question, led him over to a table in the corner of the room. Spreading out the map, she explained her theory.  
  
"I went to the library to look at these maps. If George was going from Corus to Tyra, trying to be inconspicuous, he'd probably-" She stopped, looking up and seeing the protest in Jon's eyes.  
  
"What's wrong?" the Lady Knight asked, concern in her voice.   
  
Jon turned around and sighed. "Alanna, I know that you're worried about George. But I think you're taking this too seriously. I'm sure he's just gone to Tyra as planned. He wouldn't worry you intentionally, you know." His fingers drummed against the shining  
mahogany of the tabletop.  
  
Anger began to form in Alanna, but she fought to control it. "Wouldn't worry me intentionally? Jon, he's mad at me for accepting your proposal and coming to the palace. And the note! And don't forget the Dancing Dove."  
  
Jon waved his hands, dismissing her suggestions. "Alanna, you can't be so sure of everything. At least wait another few days."  
  
She was really getting angry now, and Jon could see it in her face. He took on his patient look, the one that really made her mad. "Alanna, listen to me. Just because George isn't here doesn't mean that he's been kidnapped or taken away to be murdered!"  
  
Alanna turned away. Her voice, when it came, was controlled through much effort. "Jon, I know that something's wrong. I can feel it. Please try and believe me, all right?"  
  
Jon faced her and took her hands in his. "My Lioness, I'm sorry. I know that you feel you're right, but I too feel that nothing is wrong here! Just relax for once." His warm, loving gaze made Alanna melt as it had when she was only a squire. She returned his smile lovingly and kissed him.  
  
"Maybe you're right," she sighed, letting him sink into a chair and pull her onto his lap. He gently massaged her shoulders and she closed her eyes, contented. After a few minutes, Jon patted her back and helped her up.  
  
"Well, it's time to get ready, wouldn't you say?" he asked.   
  
"Ready? For what?" she replied, having no idea what he was talking about.  
  
"For what? For the ball tonight, of course!" was his answer. Alanna sighed and moaned. She made her way over to the bed and flopped down on it.  
  
"Oh, Jon, I don't want to go to another ball. You know I don't care for social events," she groaned.  
  
Jon sat beside her and pulled her up again. "It's part of your job, my lovely princess."  
  
Prickles of annoyance stung her spine. "My job?"  
  
Jon chuckled. "You said you'd marry me, you became the Princess of Tortall. Attending balls to represent the royal family is therefore one of your duties." He smiled at her, but Alanna didn't smile back.  
  
"Jon, when I said I'd marry you, I didn't say yes because I wanted to be a princess," she informed him a little distantly.  
  
"I know, I know! But you did say yes and that's the price of being my wife." Jon got up and briskly strode over to a gilded mirror hanging from a wall.  
  
Outright anger flooded the Lady Knight. She snorted. "So your ball is more important than my friend?" she demanded, angrily pushing back her hair.  
  
Jon turned to her. "I thought we talked about that. George is fine," he said shortly.  
  
"Jon, you don't know that. I'd still feel better if we tried to find him."  
  
"Alanna, do you care more for him or me?" demanded Jon. "It seems like all you care about is George! You're marrying me, if you'll remember!"  
  
"Jon, how can you say that?" cried Alanna. "He's one of my best friends! And you know that I love you. But you're taking me for granted again, just like you did in the desert! I'm sick of it!"  
  
"And I'm sick of you thinking of everything but what you promised! You wanted to be the princess!"  
  
"No, I didn't! I never wanted to be a princess! That's why I took so long to agree to marrying you!" With that, Alanna turned and stormed out of the room, furious. Jon followed her, worried, to the doorway.   
  
"Alanna, wait. Listen to me," Jon begged, but she did not stop. "Where are you going?" he asked helplessly as she stomped out.  
  
"I'm going to find George," she answered shortly, and left. 


	7. All That Twinkles

Author's Note: I know that all of you have been DYING to read this next part....I'm sure. Anyway, what's with all of the "The author formerly known as" names popping up suddenly? It's an interesting fad, but a little too long for me. Then again, maybe I should change my name to "The author currently known as Lady of the Wolves". What do you think?  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Six: All That Twinkles  
  
  
  
Positively burning with anger, Alanna stormed out of the palace and threw open the heavy doors to the stables, startling a young hostler. Not bothering to apologize, she pulled on a dark cloak with a hood, stomped over to her prized mare's stall, and yanked the door open. Moonlight nickered her concern, peering at Alanna out of her soft, dark eyes.  
  
The Lioness sighed. "I'm just so sick of it!" she cried softly, burying her face in Moonlight's velvety mane. "I'm sick of being a princess, having to wear dresses, and I'm   
just sick of being something that I'm not!" With that, the Lady Knight pulled her golden animal from the box stall and hastily saddled and bridled her.   
  
"Lady Alanna?" a worried Stefan called, hurrying over, arms full of grooming brushes. Alanna paid no heed; she swung up onto the saddle in one swift, fluid motion and nudged Moonlight with her heel. The mare took off at a gallop and Alanna quickly left the stables behind.  
  
It was twilight and the sunset was stunning. Pink clouds wafted over a vibrant orange ball of fire that was the sun. Alanna focused on the distant horizon of trees at the edge of her vision and urged the flaxen mare forward as they neared the palace gates to leave the Temple District. Pedestrians hurried to get out of the way of the charging animal and rider.  
  
The gate guards looked up as she drew near. Too angry to stop, she didn't slow Moonlight as they approached the gate. But the guards were under orders and quickly held their long battle-axes over the gate frame. "What's the hurry?" asked a burly man with a thick, curly beard.  
  
Alanna sighed and gritted her teeth. They did have reason to be suspicious, seeing a rider charge from the palace, but she didn't want to be delayed. "I'm on King's business!" she yelled, trying to constrain a rearing Moonlight; her mare sensed that her mistress wanted to get out of there - and fast.  
  
"King's business?" repeated the other guard, a thinner man with sandy hair. "What kind o' business o' the King sends a rider galloping out o' the palace at this time o' night?" he questioned.   
  
With a sigh of frustration, Alanna pulled back her hood. The guards squinted up at her, unable to see well in the growing darkness. "I am Princess Alanna," she declared, hating the way the words tasted in her mouth. Both the guards gasped, and recognizing her, they hurriedly pulled away the axes to allow her passing.  
  
"But why, yer Majesty, do you need to-" the guard's question was left unanswered as the Lady Knight practically flew out the exit into the waiting city beyond.  
  
Alanna welcomed the bitter wind on her face as she fought self anger at using her title to gain a mere thing such as passage through a gate. "I should have never become a princess," she muttered, fighting back angry tears.  
  
As she entered the city of Corus, she couldn't help feeling a familiar sense of wonder. Even at night, the city was magnificent for a girl from the mountains. Lanterns were lit in windows and in shop fronts and in the few remaining stalls. She slowed Moonlight to a walk as they moved through the city.  
  
What now? she asked herself. Truth be told, she hadn't a plan. In her rage she had just ran away. Ran away, she thought gloomily. Coram always told me that he'd never picture me running away. But that's what I'm doing now, isn't it?  
  
Moonlight continued to trudge along placidly through the pretty much deserted streets as Alanna sat silently, thinking. A crescent moon had risen and it cast its pale light over Alanna and over the darkened streets.  
  
Suddenly, a dark figure leapt out from the shadows and presented itself before Alanna...... 


	8. All That Flickers

I won't waste any time getting to the story….

Chapter Seven: All That Flickers

Alanna yelped in surprise as the dark figure jumped out of the shadows and stepped into the dim moonlight. "Coram?" she asked in disbelief as her former manservant smiled at her, brushing his gray hair out of his weathered face. 

"It's good t' see ye, lass," Coram replied. With a shout of delight, Alanna dismounted and hugged Coram tightly in one swift, fluid motion. He returned the gesture, clapping her heartily on the back. The Lady Knight hadn't seen Coram since she had returned to the palace as Jon's betrothed. Closing her soft eyes briefly, Alanna let the rush of emotion pass and the tears dissolve. 

"I haven't seen you in so long," she managed to choke out, smiling as they ended the embrace. Coram nodded, scratching his neck. "How's Rispah? Is she all right?" 

Coram grinned. "Aye, she's well," he reported. "We're t' be married, her an' me," he said proudly. 

Alanna laughed and hugged him again. "That's wonderful! I'm glad to finally hear some good news." 

Coram gave her a concerned, puzzled look, which she tried to avoid. "So why is t' princess out here so late at night?" he questioned, noticing Moonlight behind Alanna. When she didn't answer, he knew something was the matter. "What's wrong?" 

Alanna sighed. "I just— I just don't know if I'm cut out to _be _a princess," she admitted. "I don't want to sit and knit while Jon's out at war, I don't want to wear dresses and slippers for the rest of my life, and I don't want to be told what to do!" she exploded. Coram looked quite taken aback. He stepped forward patted her gingerly on the back, as if she might erupt again. 

"It'll be all right, lass," he whispered. She smiled weakly in return as Coram took her hand and squeezed it gently. 

"What are _you_ doing out here at this time?" she inquired, suddenly fully aware of the situation. Coram 

grinned broadly, but Alanna could tell that he was worried. 

"Come with me." Coram turned and dashed back into the alley from which he had emerged. Thinking quickly, the Lioness grabbed Moonlight's dangling reins and took off after him, leading her mare behind. 

Alanna followed Coram around a corner and was forced to leap high over a reeking pool of dark, muddy water. "Coram?" she yelled when he turned another corner and vanished from her sight. She could smell food cooking—or burning. "Coram!" Moonlight followed reluctantly. She found herself alone in a dead end. Old brick buildings surrounded her on three sides and Coram was nowhere to be seen. Moonlight was downright scared and had her ears pinned back tightly against her head. Looking around her, the only place Alanna could see to go was through a small door in one of the buildings. 

Pushing aside a tattered cloth that covered the door, Alanna cautiously entered, tightly holding Moonlight's reins, though her steed refused to come in. "Coram?" she whispered. It was pitch black and Alanna wondered if she should risk using her Gift to light up the dark room. She internally wondered if she was walking into a trap. 

Alanna was just about shocked out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "It's me, lass," Coram assured her. Drawing her violet magic into a hand-held torch, Alanna lit up the room. For such an unimpressive exterior, Alanna expected it to be run-down and dirty; instead, it was well-furnished. 

"Where is this?" Alanna wondered aloud, examining the room critically from where she stood. Coram chuckled softly. 

"I'd o' thought ye would guess," he hinted. When she gave him a blank look, he laughed again. "It's the temporary location o' the Rogue headquarters," he revealed with a grand sweep of his arm. 

Alanna gasped. "The Rogue?" she asked desperately. Surely George would be here! 

Coram nodded. "Aye, the Rogue. I know ye heard about the Dancin' Dove being burned and all." Alanna nodded, unable to speak. "Well, — " 

Coram cut off as Rispah entered the room from a door opposite them. Smiling happily, she crossed the room, gave Coram a quick kiss on the cheek, causing him to blush lightly, and hugged Alanna heartily. The Lady Knight returned the gesture warmly. Rispah was George's cousin and the queen of the Rogue. 

"So how fares the princess?" asked Rispah, eyes dancing. Alanna snorted and Coram gave Rispah a look that explained everything. "We'll discuss that later," Rispah said hastily. 

Another Rogue, with black hair and dark eyes, entered from the same door as Rispah. "This is Sadem," Rispah introduced. "He'll take care of your horse." 

Alanna reluctantly handed over her mare's reins to the man, who disappeared out the door into the alley. "Come, come," welcomed Rispah, going back through the door to the rest of the building. Coram and Alanna followed close behind. 

Rispah led them to a dimly lit room, warmed by a roaring fire. Throwing herself in an overstuffed chair, Rispah made herself comfortable and indicated for Alanna to do the same. Coram settled himself in another chair and Alanna gingerly sat in a sagging chair. 

The Rogue queen sat up and glanced at Coram, then gazed at Alanna. "Do ye know where my cousin's gone off to?" she asked softly. 

Alanna leapt out of her seat. "I was going to ask you that!" she cried in disappointment. Rispah sighed unhappily and looked away. Coram looked unsure. 

"I don't know where he got off to," said Alanna quietly, sinking back into her chair. "I was terribly worried when I heard about the Dancing Dove. George was mad at me for— for saying yes to Jonathan. He left me this note saying that he was going to Tyra, but I don't — " 

"Tyra!" exclaimed Rispah, looking terrified. Alanna shot her a hard glance. 

"Tyra? Why is that so significant?" she asked slowly, watching Rispah, her muscles tense. 

Rispah sighed and buried her face in her hands. "There's a Rogue in Tyra, o' a different sort," she whispered. "Compared to them, we're gentlemen and ladies. They don' play fair and think nothin' of killin' just to get somethin' they want. It's sick, that's what it is!" Her voice rose in anger. 

"But— but he said that he was going to deal with them!" Alanna protested. "George wouldn't just barrel into something like that!" 

"He would in anger," Rispah replied grimly. 

Alanna felt horrible. George had gone to his death because of her, she was sure. "Well, if he's in trouble, I'm going to help," she declared, standing up. 

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud _creak_. Coram and Rispah leapt to their feet. Alanna's hand groped for her sword, but it wasn't hanging from her belt as it usually did. _Didn't I bring it? _Alanna asked herself. She settled for the dagger on her other side. 

Sadem, the man who had taken care of Moonlight, strode into the room and tossed another struggling man to the ground. The man on the ground had messy red hair and a beautiful purple robe that was dirty. 

"Thom? What are you doing here?" Alanna demanded, striding over to glare at her twin brother. Coram followed her and looked down on him, shaking his head. 

Thom got up gingerly, flinching as he examined his sore body. "I was looking for you!" he said indignantly. "And I did **not **intend to be attacked on my way to find you!" 

Sadem shrugged silently. "Ye was trespassing," boomed Coram. "Always were like that, I suppose," he added with a shrug as he returned to his chair. 

"What do you want?" Alanna asked, raising her eyebrows. 

"You shouldn't just run off when you get angry," said Thom, changing the subject. 

Alanna felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Don't tell me what to do," she growled. 

Thom shrugged. "Dear sister, it is my duty to protect you wherever you go, should something happen to you, and I am only fulfilling that duty — " 

"Jonathan sent you, didn't he?" cried Alanna, grabbing the front of her brother's robe. Thom flinched again. 

"Alanna, he's only worried about you!" 

She turned away angrily. Alanna had wanted to get away from Jonathan and now she found that he wasn't to be avoided so easily. All she had wanted to do was find George. 

"Alanna?" 

Ignoring her brother, the Lioness turned to face Rispah. "Where is the headquarters of these Tyran Rogues?" she asked. 

Rispah sighed. "Tyra, the capitol." 

Alanna picked up her cloak, which she had flung over her chair. "I'm going to find him," she announced, heading for the door. 

Rispah grabbed her arm. "You can't! This isn't a game, Alanna! They could kill you!" 

"And I could kill them. Rispah, he's one of my best friends. It might be my fault that he went to Tyra!"

Startled, Rispah fell silent. 

"Ye can't go alone, lass," Coram insisted. 

"That's where I come in!" Thom said eagerly. "I'll protect you, Alanna!" 

Alanna and everyone else in the room snorted. "You just want to be Jon's little spy," challenged Alanna. 

Thom sighed. "Alanna, you're my sister. I don't want you going out to kill yourself. With your fighting and my magic, we could save George!" 

Alanna hesitated. "I don't know," she said slowly. "It doesn't seem— " 

"Do you want to save George?" Thom repeated, meeting his sister's violet eyes with his own. 

Alanna sighed and gazed into the fire. _It's my fault that he left_, she told herself. _So it's my job to bring him back. _

"We leave at sunrise," she said shortly. "We're going to find George." 


	9. All That Flashes

Author's Note: What makes you all so sure that she's going to find George? Heh. Heh heh. Read on… 

Chapter Seven: All That Flashes

Awakened by a clear, cold wind shortly before dawn, Alanna slowly remembered her declaration from the previous night and rolled out of bed. She had been given a surprisingly nice room in the temporary Rogue headquarters, save for the high window through which the bitter gust flowed. The not-quite-a-morning-person Lady Knight stuffed her aching feet into her hard, cold boots and pulled her cloak around her, shivering in the morning briskness. Stretching and waking up with a silent groan, Alanna rubbed her growling stomach and wondered if, somewhere, George was hungrier.

The thought left a cold chill in her bones and sent an arrow through her heart. _I've got to find him_, she told herself again. She swept back her mane with an impatient rake of her fingers and tied her flaming locks into a knot at the base of her neck, then groped her way to the door.

Lighting a small portion of her Gift as she exited the room, Alanna cupped her hands around the violet flames to keep from disturbing anyone. She made her way to her twin's room at the opposite end of the narrow hall and kicked his door to summon him.

A loud thump and a groan could be heard from inside the room and Alanna grinned in spite of herself. She could just imagine Thom rolling out of bed with a start and hitting the floor, as he had done so many times as a child when they lived in Trebond. A few seconds later, a sleepy-eyed, tousle-haired Thom opened the door and thrust his head out, blinking wearily. "What do you want?" he asked grumpily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

Alanna grinned (slightly evilly). Nothing would be better than Thom seeing how great it was to be Jon's little spy when they were out actually looking for George, instead of just talking about it. "Come, my dear brother, don't you remember? We have a job to do! Get dressed and we'll be off!" Giving her twin a hardy slap on the back that nearly knocked him over, Alanna strode off down the hall whistling and vanished down the stairs.

Thom closed himself into his room again, rubbing his aching back gingerly. "That's right, dear sister. We do indeed have a job to do," he whispered, removing an object from his pocket and grinning ever so slightly.

******

Coram found Alanna as she was preparing Moonlight to ride. He entered the stable, coughing slightly to announce his presence. She looked up and met his worried eyes.

"Ye don' have to do this," he said softly but frankly.

"Yes, I do," sighed Alanna. "He may need my help."

"He may not," countered Coram. "Are ye sure there's not another reason ye're so eager to leave fer?"

The Lady Knight looked up, startled. "What? How did you— "

Coram chuckled softly. "I've known ye yer whole life. I can tell when somethin's amiss, lass."

Alanna smiled wryly. "I said I'd marry Jon," she muttered. "But I don't want to be a princess or a queen. I just want to— I don't even know anymore."

Coram returned the wry smile. "It's what comes when ye love someone important," he noted wisely. Alanna nodded and a comfortable silence hung in the air.

Thom burst in through the door, breaking the silence with a string of unhappy complaints. "I'm cold, tired, and hungry," he moaned, rubbing his head. Alanna snorted.

"Maybe you shouldn't come along then, brother. I'd hate for anything to happen to you," she said sweetly. Thom and Coram snorted.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sister dearest," he replied in the same sickly tone. "In fact, I feel better already. I'll just saddle my horse and we'll be off," he announced.

Alanna rolled her eyes. Maybe getting rid of Thom would be harder than she had thought.

******

The pink morning sun had peeked its way from beneath the mound of thick blue-gray clouds by the time Alanna had managed to literally drag Thom, on his horse, out of the Rogue's new headquarters. The thieves couldn't wave her goodbye; they had to disappear once the sun had risen. "Someone might have known we stayed at the Dancin' Dove, and burned it apurpose," as Rispah had explained to Alanna earlier.

The Lady Knight glanced over at her brother. Wrapped in a thick, expensive-looking cloak, Thom was clutching tightly his reins, his hands in fur gloves. His face was barely visible under the hood of his cloak and above his tight wool scarf. Even Alanna, who passionately hated the cold, was only wearing her cloak for weather protection.

As they neared the city gates, Alanna's heart thumped in her chest. What if the gatekeepers recognized her? Would they take her back to the palace? _Not if I have anything to do about it_, she promised herself fiercely.

Few people were awake at the early hour, so Alanna was unable to hide in a crowd to avoid speaking to the guards. She covered her head in her hood, looking down at the ground to avoid the guards' faces as they neared the wall.

"Good morning," she called in a low tone as the guards noticed her presence. They nodded absentmindedly in return and she quickly rode through the open gates. "Free at last," she muttered to herself.

Thom followed her on his mare, a chestnut he called Daphne, still yawning in a loud and obnoxious way.

Their horses took to a trot as the twins entered the path to the forest. The clattering of hooves on the dry, packed dirt lulled Alanna into a state of day dreaminess, so she was slightly startled when Thom's voice broke the monotonous clops. 

"Why'd you say you'd marry Jon if you were just going to run away?" he asked, his voice sounding strange.

Alanna snapped upright in her saddle. "I don't want to talk about it."

Thom sniffed, not meeting her eyes. "You needn't get upset."

Alanna clenched her teeth. "It's none of your business!"

Neither twin spoke during the rest of the day's journey. Alanna noted that they had covered several leagues and was content with the progress. They hadn't stopped for lunch and her stomach was growling by the time the sun was late in the sky. Thom was complaining about being hungry or tired or cold, but Alanna had effectively learned how to tune him out. They had just left the main path and made their way to a village by near sundown.

  
"It's about time we stopped!" Thom cried eagerly as their horses made their way onto the cobblestone streets. The fairly large town, Laughing Waters, was well-kept with tidy streets and many rows of shops and houses.

"Not so fast, Thom," cautioned Alanna. "We are not stopping just so you can stuff your face with expensive food and then sleep with some pretty prostitute and get drunk."

Thom opened his mouth to argue, but shut it when he realized she was right. He gave her a wink and she snorted. "Then what are we stopping for?" he demanded.

"I'm not quite sure yet. Let's have a look around this place before it gets dark." Putting a hand on her sword hilt, Alanna shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. Moonlight, sensing her mistress's discomfort, gave a gentle whicker. Thom rode ahead of Alanna, sitting up straight in the saddle to impress any fine ladies he might encounter.

They passed a smithy and Alanna stopped temporarily to peer inside at the fine swords. She fingered Lightning, wondering if she should purchase another blade. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by Thom screeching for help ahead of her.

Alanna swung back onto her mare and quickly raced around the corner, expecting to find Thom being robbed or attacked by some ruffians. Drawing her sword, she reared up on Moonlight. "Stop!" she cried.

Thom turned around and continued to try and shake the old man grabbing him off his arm. "Help me!" he cried feebly, shaking his arm wildly. The old man laughed like an intoxicated hyena, clutching Thom's arm tightly. He was dressed as a priest in his white robe, though it was dirty and he smelled terrible.

"You are a chosen one, my lad!" he said drunkenly, laughing at his own words. Alanna nearly fell off her horse laughing.

"Shut up and get this old guy off of me!" ordered Thom. Alanna was holding onto Moonlight to keep her knees from collapsing under her as laughs shook her body. The drunken priest was singing now, some old bar song, from what she could understand. Thom was not happy.

Alanna finally straightened up, still shaking from a random laugh or two, and helped Thom remove the old man hanging on his arm. Thom, angry beyond words, quickly stomped over to his horse to sulk moodily. The drunken priest was laughing now too. "Ah, what a beautiful young damsel we have here!" announced the priest, smiling at Alanna. Thom snorted from the other side of Daphne, who was snacking on a nearby bush.

"Come, my dear, let me buy you a drink! I know a *hic* lovely tavern where *hic* we can have a nice ale," he said, stumbling over and taking her arm. Thom, watching behind his mare, started coughing loudly.

"That— er, would be lovely," Alanna replied, putting on her best damsel-in-distress voice. She met Thom's extremely surprised violet eyes and gave him a look that said play along. The priest hiccupped some more and proceeded to lead her along the street, leaning on her for support in his drunken stupor.

The Lady Knight turned her head around and mouthed, "Get the horses and follow," to her brother.

Alanna and the priest soon encountered a shabby looking tavern, the Silver Feather. Inside it was dark and full of pipe smoke and murmuring voices. Most of the attention was centered on two men fighting in a corner. The priest led Alanna to a vacant table and left to "fetch some drinks".

Alanna looked around and saw Thom enter innocently. He caught her gaze and was directed by her eyes to a seat at the bar. Glancing around, Alanna found something else of interest: a few men at a table arguing heatedly. She caught the words "Rogue" and "suspect" and was immediately entranced. _Are these Tyran Rogues? _she asked herself. She quickly looked at something else when they met her gaze squarely.

The intoxicated clergyman was returning to the table bearing two tankards when he was shoved out of the way by one of the possible Tyran Rogues, apparently the leader. "I see ye've got a sword," he stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest in a manly way. "Ye know how to handle it?"

Alanna felt her blood heat and rise in anger. _Calm down and be cool_, she instructed herself firmly. "I'd say so," she said coolly.

"Then why don't ye prove it?" he asked back, placing both hands on the sticky tabletop.

"Is that a challenge?" snarled Alanna, unable to control her feelings anymore. She hated when men assumed that she was weak just because she was female.

"Yep, I reckon it is," grinned the Rogue. His comrades were laughing and Alanna wanted to put them in their place.

"All right then. Let's go outside and I'll show you how to sword fight," she snapped, standing up.

"After you, my Lady," he said mockingly. Alanna couldn't wait to kick his butt.

Alanna tramped outside, followed by the suspected Rogue, his friends, several other customers, and her brother. Thom was giving her frantic looks that all meant "what the heck are you doing?!?!", but Alanna chose to ignore them. The dark Rogue then led to the bar's courtyard in back, where he drew his own sword.

"Let's dance," he said with a wink, then lunged forward at her.

Alanna quickly ducked and rolled out of the way. She drew her sword and lunged back at him. There wasn't much she loathed more than opponents who didn't play by the rules of swordplay. She caught his every move and continued to push him back. His wide eyes showed all the surprise Alanna could have hoped for.

"Why don't you think about this the next time you challenge a female!" she suggested triumphantly, knocking away his offensive attacks again and again. His eyes flashed in anger and he made a foolish move. She quickly turned his sword around. The blade twisted in his hands and slipped to the ground; he lunged after it and fell too. Alanna moved forward and pressed Lightning to his throat. "I win," she announced coldly. The small crowd was in a cheering frenzy as Thom pushed his way forward to get to his sister as everyone headed back inside.

"What was that for?" he demanded angrily of his sister. "You were showing off! You could have been _killed_!"

"I knew exactly what I was doing," Alanna replied coldly, stepping away from the man on the ground and sheathing her blade.

Thom waved his arms in a frustrated manner. "Well, maybe that man knows about fighting too! Maybe he knows street fighting like George Cooper did!"

A cold hand grabbed Alanna's arm and she turned around. She threw off the arm and knocked the suspected Rogue to the ground easily, but his friends were there to help. They quickly surrounded her and Thom and had their arms twisted behind their backs. The Lioness growled in anger.

The man she had beaten in the swordfight stepped forward, leering at her. He drew a knife from his shoe and slowly pressed it against her throat. When Alanna tried to kick him, he stomped on her foot and backed away.

"What do you gentlemen want?" demanded Thom angrily. "This is most undignified!"

"Ye'd do well to shut yer mouth," suggested the man angrily, and Thom fell silent.

"Funny, I never figured you for a sore loser," Alanna said angrily, struggling against her captors. She stopped as the blade was pressed at her throat again.

"Ye have some information I'd like t' hear about," he said cunningly, his eyes glinting like a rat's in the thin moonlight.

"What makes you think I'll tell you anything?" she demanded. With a wave of his hand, the man directed his minion to give a swift kick to Thom in his stomach.

"Well?" the man asked, grinning evilly. Alanna said nothing.

Gasping for breath, Thom hissed something at the man and was rewarded with another kick.

Alanna met the man's eyes with her violet ones coldly. "What do you know about George Cooper?" he demanded.


	10. All That Dazzles

Author's Note: This is Chapter Nine! Sorry about the Chapter Eight mix-up. "All That Flashes" was Chapter Eight.

Chapter Nine: All That Dazzles

"Why do you want to know?" spat Alanna, livid with rage. She struggled but could not shake off her captors.

The man slapped her sharply across the face. She lunged again and was rewarded with an elbow in her ribs. She gasped with pain and breathed in ragged gulps, keeping her eyes to the ground.

"I'll ask the questions," barked the man. "Now I don' have all day. Are ye goin' t' tell me or not?"

"I'd sooner— " Thom cut off Alanna's sharp retort with a high-pitched squeal.

"We'll tell you everything we know!" he yelped. "Just don't hurt us!"

"Shut up, you traitor!" commanded Alanna, turning to glare at her brother.

"No. Keep talkin', sirrah, and no harm will come t' ye or ye're lass here," the suspected Rogue promised innocently.

"He's lying, don't listen to him!" ordered Alanna. "These Rogues won't— "

The man in charge signaled to one of his cronies and he raised his dagger over Alanna's head. Thom gasped and Alanna struggled, trying to free herself from the two men constraining her. He brought the hilt sharply down against her head and it connected with a solid _thwack_. The Lady Knight slumped limply in one captor's hold, unconscious. 

The lead Rogue sauntered forward confidently. "Don' be concerned," he advised the sweating Thom. "Nothin'll happen t' ye if ye tell us simple folk what we wanna know."

******

Alanna awoke with her face buried in scratchy straw. She lifted her head gingerly; she could already feel a large bruise forming on the top of her skull. The Lady Knight noted, in the pitch dark, that her hands were bound together behind her back and her feet were also tied together. She also realized that wherever she was, she was moving; her enclosure bumped up and down as if she traveled over a bumpy road. Stretching out to determine the compartment's boundaries, she whacked her head on the "ceiling" and struck something with her feet.

"Alanna? Is that you?" a voice asked softly in a confused manner. 

"Thom?" Alanna tried to roll around to attempt to see her brother, but there wasn't enough space. "Thom, are you all right? Do you know where we are?"

"I didn't tell them anything! I wouldn't say a word! Not after they hurt you!" Thom cried hysterically. He made a pitiful whimpering sound and thrashed against her feet.

"Be quiet," Alanna ordered and Thom's noises ceased. Bending her knees back and stretching her tied arms as far to her feet as she could go, Alanna searched for the knife George had taught her to keep in her shoe. She dug her index finger into the nearly invisible slit in the side of her leather boot. Fumbling around in the dark, she couldn't feel anything in the tiny pocket.

_Of course_, she thought, mentally cursing herself. Rogues were _taught_ to keep weapons in concealed places. That was probably the first thing they had done after knocking her out. She stretched back to her former position and sighed. Twisting around, she discovered that she'd been completely stripped of her weapons.

"Thom? Are these ropes magicked?" Alanna inquired of her brother. He let loose a weary sigh of affirmation. "You're the Master. Can't you do something?"

"They're too strong. I don't have enough energy as it is, after the royal beating they gave me," Thom told her. Alanna sighed and lay still on the straw. "Alanna?" Thom whispered after a moment of silence, his voice barely audible over the rattles and shakes of their enclosure.

"What?" she replied wearily, shutting her eyes for a brief rest.

"Isn't Tyra a republic?"

"Mm-hmm," Alanna acknowledged. "A merchant republic."

"So why does it have a Rogue system? I thought the Rogue system was formed only to function in a society with a monarchy."

Alanna sighed. "Tyra's system is perfect for a Rogue. The Rogues control all of the trades and routes and they have taxes on everything. They're like the monarchs of Tyra." As she spoke, she slowly realized why Tortall had never established any connection with the small country. "The Rogues are gangsters who control just about everything there, including the people."

"Why don't they find another way to produce income?" Thom asked softly, reminding Alanna of Thom as a child.

"Tyra's covered in swamps," Alanna answered. "Even— "

Alanna's statement was cut off as their enclosure stopped abruptly and both twins were thrown forward. Slamming her feet against a wall, Alanna rolled over on her back to prepare for a fight when the overhead door was opened.

There was a loud creak as something heavy was removed from the top of their box. _Or someone got off_, Alanna reminded herself grimly. She recognized the sound of a key being turned in a rusty lock and suddenly the door to the top of their enclosure was swung open. Light blinded Alanna and she had to snap her eyes shut from the fierce pain it brought. Strong arms reached down and grabbed her shoulders.

******

Prince Jonathan paced the chamber angrily, his hands folded behind his back. He paused to glare at the messenger with his direct, cold sapphire eyes. "Go on," he ordered impatiently.

The messenger gulped, diverting his eyes away from the prince's hard gaze. "She was last seen three days ago leaving the palace, Highness," he reported nervously. "She's sent no word back and there's been no details from any of the spies you sent out after her."

The Prince sighed and turned his back on the trembling man. "Very well. You are dismissed," he said curtly. The servant bowed and quickly evacuated the chamber. As soon as he was alone, Jonathan sank down into a chair by the fireplace. Suddenly, as with inspiration, he stood up and settled down in front of the fire. Murmuring words in an ancient tongue, he raised his hands and blue fire leapt from his fingers to mingle with the orange flames.

"Thom? Lord Thom, are you there?" he demanded. The fire supplied no reply, but Jonathan watched it intently, sweat forming on his forehead from the heat of the flames. 

A knock sounded at the door. Jon started, snapped out of his dreamy state by the sharp sound. He rose to his feet slowly and trudged over to pull the door open wearily. Gary stood there, the concern on his face obvious. "Jon, you mustn't keep worrying about this. Alanna can take care of herself!"

Jon turned around and walked back into the room, his cousin following. "These are Tyran Rogues, Gary. I don't think she understands that she's not dealing with a couple of marketplace thieves." He sighed again and turned to face his cousin, who had seated himself into the chair and was watching him with an expression of sympathy. "I don't know. Am I underestimating her, Gary?"

"She's only been gone a few days! Maybe she's just taking a vacation," Gary suggested. His words didn't have their intended effect on Jon, who slumped over to throw himself down on a couch. "Don't you think you're making this into too big of a deal?"

"I'm asking you!"

"I think you're just stressed. Relax, Jon." Gary went over to pat Jonathan on the back. "Anyway, if I were you I'd send spies to look for George. Don't identify him as the King of Thieves, mind you."

"Maybe you're right." Jon relaxed and sat up. He shook Gary's hand.

"Come on now, your mother wants to see you," Gary informed the Prince. He helped him out of the chair and they exited the room. The fire remained, the flames still glowing blue with magic.

******

It took Alanna a moment after she could open her eyes to realize that the light that had burned her eyes did not come from the sun. It was actually quite dark in the hallway she was being led down, though it was lined with torches in brackets against the stone walls. Four armed guards were "escorting" her and Thom with an important-looking Rogue (Alanna was almost certain they were Rogues now) leading the way.

The torch had been shoved in their faces when the door had been opened to allow their captors to identify them. They had been promptly pulled out and their ropes had been replaced with chains. Alanna had struggled and been jabbed in the stomach with the flat end of a spear. Another injury she would have to repay later, as far as the Lady Knight was concerned. Then they had been led down this hallway without a single explanation.

Alanna realized that the chains securing her hands together were loose. With some fiddling around, she managed to slip out of one of the manacles. She continued to silently work on the other and shed it too. She kept walking, holding the chains around her wrist to give the illusion that she was still imprisoned.

"Where are you taking us?" Thom demanded, sniffing haughtily at the guard on his right.

"You'd do best not to ask questions, Lord Thom," said the important-looking man in front without turning around or stopping.

Alanna said nothing, too busy wondering how they had learned Thom's and possibly her name. She also wondered where Moonlight was and felt a pang of sorrow for her beloved mare. The Lady Knight barely had time to exchange glances with Thom before the party entered a large, richly furnished chamber. Alanna immediately recognized the man she had fought with at the tavern standing next to what she guessed was a throne of some sort.

Alanna and Thom were brought forward to the throne. A man perched upon the gilded seat studied them carefully. An ugly scar ran around the side of his left cheek and trailed behind his ear. His eyes narrowed and he approached them, the man Alanna fought with a few steps in front of him.

The Rogue leading Alanna and Thom bowed. "The prisoners, as you asked, my lord," he announced. The man with the scar had barely nodded when Alanna lunged forward and drew the sword of the man with whom she had fought. She kicked the man and pushed over the scarred one, placed one foot on his chest and pointed the sword at his throat.

She immediately realized it was a mistake. The guards from the room quickly surrounded her and held their spears at her throat. Her sword was confiscated and new chains were strapped around her wrists. The scarred man sneered at her as he was helped up by one of his minions. "I had the idea to release you, Princess Alanna," he said in a deep, breathy voice, "but that's obviously not what you want."

He turned around and headed back for the chair. "Take them to the dungeon."

Disclaimer: Everything that belongs to Tamora Pierce is hers. Everything else is mine.

Author's Note: Ooh, the dungeon! How scary! I apologize for taking forever to post this, but I've had lots to do. 

You know the drill. Please review!


	11. All That Blazes

Author's Note: Some explanations: the chains were magic-proof, meaning that magic could not be performed by the wearer. Alanna's simply weren't attached properly. They were not magically locked. Also, the one man has a sword because he is of a higher rank than the guards.

There isn't much action in this chapter, but there will be soon! I'll write more soon, I know I take forever to update.

Chapter Ten: All That Blazes

The guards roughly turned around Alanna and Thom and shoved them towards the door, presumably taking them to the dungeon. Suddenly, Thom jerked his head around, his eyes wide with obvious terror. "Wait, wait!" he squeaked at the scarred man, who had retreated to his throne. A guard pressed his spear to Thom's throat, but Thom, sensing this was his chance, didn't stop. "Wait!" Alanna eyed her brother suspiciously. 

The scarred man sighed. "What is it? Some last words?" he asked aloofly, examining a large gem on his right hand.

Thom puffed out his chest. "I, Lord Thom of Trebond, carry an important package for the Sheriff of Tyra!" he announced proudly.

Scar's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think I care about the Sheriff? Coincidentally, I happen to loathe him."

Thom's pride vanished. "But— but he'll kill you when he doesn't get it!" 

Scar laughed, a horrible, malicious laugh that practically consumed him. "How, pray tell, will the Sheriff have any idea that I had something to do with the— un-delivery— of some package?"

Alanna, thoughts racing through her mind, turned to face Thom in uncontrollable anger. "A package to the Sheriff? He's a Rogue himself!" she hissed. "That's treason against Tortall, you— " She lunged at him, but was yanked back by two of the armed guards.

Scar had turned thoughtful. "I would, however, be interested in the contents of this package," he declared. "Why don't you give it to me."

It wasn't a question. Two Rogues stepped forward to search Thom's person, despite his angry protests. A brown package was discovered and handed, with a bow, to Scar.

Scar examined the small brown paper package carefully with his long fingers, which were also crisscrossed with scars. Ripping it open, he cautiously reached inside and removed a large, smooth black stone.

Alanna gasped. It was a black opal, a magic stone of immense value and rarity. Mages would do practically anything to get their hands on one, especially one so large. Her thoughts slowly pieced together, though she could barely believe it. Thom was delivering a black opal to the Sheriff of Tyra?

Thom, whose head hung down in defeat when the package had been taken from him, turned to face Alanna, who met his eyes with a betrayed expression. Guiltily he began, "Alanna, I— "

He was cut off by Scar. "Well, thank you, Lord Thom of Trebond, very, very much for your most gracious gift. I'm sorry it won't keep you from your journey to the dungeon, however. Take them away," he ordered, with a careless wave of his hand.

Alanna didn't protest as the guards guided her and Thom through the door and down a hall, though she did keep her distance from her twin brother, refusing to meet his gaze. Betrayal and fury rushed through her veins like an icy river. Thom, delivering black opals to the Sheriff of Tyra?

There really were two Rogues in Tyra, Alanna reflected. There was the "legal" one, headed by the "elected" Sheriff of Tyra and his men, and the underground one. They were obviously in the hands of the underground one. And Scar must be the King, she told herself. 

But the most disturbing part was Thom's involvement. All black opals of that size and power were supposed to be registered by their mage owners. If Thom was dealing in illegal opal shipments, he was committing treason against the Crown. 

Thom? Treason? The idea was so ridiculous that she could barely believe it. There must be some other explanation.

Where had Thom gotten the opal, anyway? As far as Alanna knew, there weren't any prominent black opal mines anywhere in Tortall, or even Maren. Had he been shipping them in from Carthak? Tusaine? She wasn't sure where one could find an opal that large. She'd never seen its equal. 

What was the Sheriff planning to do with the opal? One that powerful could do a lot of damage in the wrong hands, and as far as Tortall was concerned, the Sheriff's hands were definitely the wrong ones.

Also disturbing was the fact that Scar, as she'd taken to calling him, knew her and Thom's names. Had this whole thing been planned as a kidnapping? Was— was George in on it? The sudden thought stung like salt poured on an open wound. No, she told herself firmly. George was her friend. He would never do that.

Before she had any more time to ponder, their group reached a heavy oak door. One guard pulled it open with a grunt and the twins were brusquely directed down a winding flight of narrow stairs. As they trudged downward, an idea came to Alanna. She leaned forward to push her weight against the guard ahead of her when the stairs abruptly ended and she ended up on her face on the floor. Pulled up roughly by two guards, she was directed by them down another dark corridor with no torches on the walls. The only light was the torch held aloft by a third guard as they made their way down the corridor.

This is the dungeon, she realized. She had only been in the palace of Tortall's dungeon once, during a lesson as a page. This one wasn't as well kept as Corus's, however; a foul stench hung in the air that almost made the Lady Knight sick to her stomach. 

They stopped in front of a door. With one hand, the guard on her left extracted a key ring from his belt and unlocked the heavy iron padlock. When the Lioness struggled, he twisted her arm until she ceased, fighting not to cry out in pain. She spat in his face and was rewarded with an elbow in her stomach. She was pushed against the door and her chains were removed. She whipped her head around, ready to fight, when a cloth was pressed tightly over her mouth. One breath and she was out.

A few seconds later, she woke to find herself on the floor of the cell. She barely made it to her feet before the door shut with a final thud in her face. Cursing angrily, she pounded on the door with no response. She turned around and sighed before trying to survey the cell. It was as dark and silent as a tomb. Bad thought, Alanna told herself, shuddering involuntarily.

But…in tombs one couldn't hear breathing. 

Hardly daring to breathe herself, Alanna turned around to face the sound. It continued: a noisy, ragged breathing, coming from inside her cell. Someone— or something— gasping for each breath with a raspy hiss.

"Who's there?" she demanded, not letting her panic blend with her voice. She tried to use her Gift to summon a light, but the manacles that remained on her wrist wouldn't let her do magic; they gave her a sharp sting and no light appeared.

Blinking, slowly growing accustomed to the darkness, Alanna made her way forward cautiously. The sound of the breathing stopped abruptly. A voice called out softly in the darkness.

"Alanna?" 

Her breath caught. That voice was as familiar as it had been those— had it only been a few days?— few or so days back at the palace. Could it be— ?

"George?" she whispered, reaching out in the darkness. Something caught her hand and pulled her close in a tight, breathless hug. "George!" she whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around him as his encircled her. Tears rushed down her cheeks in an involuntary flow as the two friends reunited. 

But the sudden bliss didn't last long. George suddenly cried out and released Alanna, his knees giving way under him. Alanna had to catch her large friend and gently lower him to the dirt floor of the cell. "You rascal, why didn't you say you were hurt?" she demanded, letting him lean against her as he breathed in ragged gulps.

He could barely speak. "I— I thought I'd never see ye again, lass," he managed to choke out, pulling her close for another hug. Alanna rested in his arms gratefully. 

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," she informed him when he released her again. "And then I've got to get us out of here. Where is this? Why are you here? What happened?"

George sighed shakily, running his fingers through his hair. Alanna could hear the clink of manacles on his wrists. "I could ask ye the same questions!" The Lioness smiled. "Actually, we've a bigger problem first. I'm to b' executed, an' unless I miss my guess, so are ye."

More Author's Notes: See, that wasn't much of a cliffhanger, now was it? Just think, I could have left you off at the "Alanna?" but I didn't. I'm too gosh-darn nice. I didn't leave off there because I felt bad not updating for a month. Anyway, George didn't rush out when the door was opened because he's hurt, he had the strength to hug Alanna as one of those "sudden strengths at really emotional times" moments.

Please review! I am already busily working on the next chapter!


	12. All That Glares

Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, I said I'd update sooner, I know I didn't, I'm sorry. I'm sick of writing this *groan* so it's kind of getting rushed…please forgive me.

Chapter Eleven: All That Glares

Alanna woke up in a fit of sneezes. Rubbing her nose and clearing her eyes, she blinked, unable to see anything in the darkness, and remembered where she was— in the dungeon with George, who lay next to her breathing loudly. (His injuries had been relatively minor, except for a few deep cuts that Alanna wanted to heal when she had use of her Gift again.) Recalling that she usually sneezed when some magic was afoot, she tried to stretch out and summon some light with her Gift. Sharp pains in her wrists reminded her that she was still bound with the manacles that prevented use of magic. 

She rolled over on her back and sighed, forcing herself again to try and think of a way out of the mess. George had explained to her that after storming out of her room, he had rethought his actions, scribbled a note for Stefan to give to her, and was returning to the Dancing Dove when he had been overtaken by a large company of enemy Rogues. The next thing he knew, he was before Scar, being told that he would be executed if his ransom was not paid by the Tortallan Rogues in two weeks. He, however, had been certain that his Rogues had not been informed of any ransom. "Then they'd of rescued me," he insisted, as if she were disagreeing. "At least Rispah." He had known nor heard nothing about the Thom and the black opal.

The Lioness had formed a theory that George had been kidnapped as bait for her. As she thought about this, it dawned on her that George was the perfect person to kidnap. A close friend of the crown prince and his bride-to-be, as well as several important knights, and not a noble himself, the Tyran Rogues could not ask for a more perfect victim.

The Tyran Rogues didn't need a reason for kidnapping them, although it could have been for money or land. They were simply malicious, wishing to do ill to other countries. Thinking this, Alanna grew mad all over again about Thom and his mysterious black opal. 

Alanna and George remained in the dungeon for a week or so. Once or twice a day (they couldn't tell how often because their was no light) stale bread and water was shoved through a small compartment into the cell. Try as she might, Alanna couldn't come up with a plan to get them out. 

Something else had happened while they were trapped in the cell— she fell in love with George. His gentle nature, sense of humor, and just the way he was— she finally realized that Jon wasn't the one, something that would be hard to tell him when— or if— they ever got out. The whole love/lust thing had confused her for a while, but— the way George kissed her, touched her— that was true love. And she would be miserable as Queen, and therefore make Jon miserable, as well as all of Tortall.

That "night" Alanna was roused from her sleep by the screeching sound of metal being scraped against metal. It was relatively soft, as if the one doing the scraping was trying to be quiet. She sat upright next to George and groped her way over to the door. She slowly got up and found herself staring into someone else's eyes.

Biting back a shout of surprise, Alanna's heart raced. The eyes were purple— Thom? "Thom?" she whispered, still angry about his possible treason. 

_Don't say you've forgotten me already, _a very familiar voice said scornfully. _It hasn't been _that _long. _

"Faithful!" Alanna exclaimed softly, reaching to pick up her cat, who had squeezed through the small opening through which their daily food was pushed. He purred madly, rubbing his face against her, despite his angry words. 

"Where _were_ you?" she demanded, still holding him tightly to her chest.

_Trying to find a way to get you out of this mess, _he answered, struggling suddenly to get free from her hold. When she loosened her arms, he jumped to the door, crawled through the opening, and leapt down and out of sight on the other side of the door. In another second he had leapt up and crawled through the opening again, something metal clamped between his teeth.

"The keys!" she realized, clutching him in a dangerously tight hug.

_I— can't— breathe_, he managed to meow. Releasing him, he exited through the small opening again, keys in his mouth. _I'll try to unlock it from out here, but I'm not making any promises, _he warned her. _Remember, I don't have thumbs!_

Adrenaline rushed through Alanna's veins as she waited for Faithful to unlock the cell. She heard the crinkle of the straw— George had rolled over. "What's happenin', love?" he asked sleepily.

"It's Faithful," she told him quietly, her heart pounding. "He has the keys— he's getting us out of here." 

George got up carefully and made his way over to Alanna and the door. Attempting to peer through the opening, he watched as Faithful, who had gotten the key in the lock, fought to turn it. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll get it soon," Alanna assured her friend. He wrapped his arms around her from behind.

Half an hour later, the lock made a clicking sound and using the food opening as a handhold, Alanna opened the door. It was still dark in the corridor, and the foul smell was strong. She and George followed Faithful, whom they could just barely see holding the keys in his mouth again, using the walls to guide them. "Do you know where Thom is?" the Lady Knight whispered, unsure if there were guards in the hall.

_I think so, _Faithful replied. _We're going there now. _After what seemed like a very long time to Alanna, Faithful stopped at another door and let George take the keys from his mouth. Turning the lock, he pushed open the door and stepped back.

"Who— who's there?" Thom's voice demanded shrilly from inside the cell.

"It's me, you idiot," Alanna retorted sharply. "We're getting out of here, so shut your mouth and hurry." A dark form— Thom— stepped out of the doorway of the cell and reached out to touch Alanna in the darkness. She grasped his wrists, noting that he, like she and George, wore the magic preventing manacles, and shoved him away in a few seconds, still angry. 

"I need to explain— "

"There'll be other times for that," she whispered shortly. "We need to get out of here."

"An' quick!" George added. Voices coming their way could be heard in the hall. The little escape party groped their way along the walls quickly. The voices grew softer and the footsteps more distant. Finally they were completely inaudible. Slowing down slightly, Alanna reached out to feel the next portion of wall— and found herself at a dead end.

Groping frantically, she soon accepted that they really were at a dead end— stone walls on three sides and nowhere to go. 

"I thought we were getting out of here!" Thom hissed nervously.

_I'm sure this is the way I came… _Faithful said uncertainly. Alanna had never heard him so unsure of himself.

"Let's just turn around and go back then," George ordered. Alanna moved to turn around when Faithful hissed and spat, his fur rising as his back arched. 

"Ye didn't think it would be that easy, did ye?" asked a silky voice dripping with malice. Alanna jumped— it was coming from right next to her! Suddenly the corridor was lit brightly as several torches blazed to life at once. Before Alanna clamped her eyes shut, she saw a whole company of armed guards trapping them in the corner. When she could see again, she saw that the man who had spoken was as well-dressed as a noble. "I'm afraid my lord requires your presence," he said coolly, grinning at their surprise. 

They were each, including Faithful, seized by two guards, huge men armed with spears and swords. The Lioness didn't bother to struggle, she knew that she couldn't break free of both the guards— even then, she'd be in the middle of an army!

"This way, please," instructed the well-dressed Rogue. He made his way to the head of the company and led them off down the corridor. Brought to the middle of the ranks of soldiers, Alanna, George, and Thom were marched up a staircase and down another hall, into a huge room.

Three nooses hung at the far end of the room, which was filled with many well-dressed Rogues, including Scar and the man Alanna had first fought with at the tavern, who rose as the company entered the room to come before him. "Welcome! I'm so glad you could make it," he said darkly as he surveyed them. "My people had a vote to decide which way you will die, and I'm afraid hanging won, though it was by a very close margin with torture. I hope you're not too disappointed." He laughed, the Rogues laughing with him. He waved his hand; the guards roughly turned them and shoved them towards the nooses. "Why don't you…oh, I don't know…just decapitate the cat," Scar suggested to the guards who carried Faithful, who twisted and hissed in their grasp.

All three struggled and fought as they were taken to the nooses, but were all shoved up onto the hanging platform. As the ropes were fastened around their necks, Alanna managed to kick one guard off the platform. Turning around quickly to take advantage of the situation, the one fallen was replaced with two more and the rope was tightened. She closed her eyes, thoughts racing…was this the end? She choked. "George…I love you. I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier."

She couldn't see him, but could hear him fighting off emotion. "I love ye too, lass, and always will."

"Good-bye," she whispered, opening her eyes to see the world one last time…

…And saw the Tortallan Rogues, led by Rispah, come charging into the room! Her heart leapt as she recognized many familiar faces, including Coram, rush into the room and charge the unprotected Tyran Rogues. All the guards were at the end of the room with the hanging platform; they quickly abandoned those posts to join in the battle and left Alanna, Thom, and George without much security. 

"Kill them, you fools!" screamed Scar, ducking behind one of his soldiers in an effort to be saved from a Tortallan Rogue's deadly sword. The soldier guarding Alanna hastened to fit the noose correctly, but suddenly gasped and fell as a sword was run through his middle. 

"Need some help?" a friendly female voice asked amiably as the noose holding Alanna was cut. She whirled around to face Rispah, who tossed her a sword. "Let's take care o' this scum," she said, cutting free Thom as another Rogue freed George. 

Alanna grinned. "Sounds good to me!" They leapt back into battle, Alanna searching especially for Scar, though she didn't have much time to concentrate— despite their numbers and skill, the Tortallan Rogues weren't faring so well against the Tyrans. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Scar making a run for it out the door. Stabbing her current opponent in the side, she dashed out after him, seeing him dart down the hallway into another door.

Alanna ran after him, a wound in her thigh aching as she fought to keep up. Entering the room, Alanna found herself face-to-face with Scar, now holding a sword of his own. "Maybe you got away from them, _princess, _but you'll find I won' be so easy to beat!" he hissed, lunging for her angrily— she barely had time to dodge. He circled and lunged again, attacking incessantly. She wasn't very tired from the earlier fight, but she had no time to strike him when she had to constantly defend. 

"You're no princess," he spat, breathing heavily, eyes wide. "You're just— "

"That's right, I'm not," she replied, beginning to attack as well as defend.

For a second he seemed confused, then started again with another insult. "You don't care about your Rogue friend…you just enjoy toying with his emotions, then running back to the prince. That's right, isn't it?" he grinned, seeing the anger grow on her face. 

"Shut up!" Alanna shouted, her lunges going wide and her parries slightly late. Her opponent's insults usually didn't bother her, but what Scar was saying hurt something inside her and she couldn't ignore it. It was messing up her attack.

"You don't love him at all! Him or the prince." She raised her sword to deliver a high stroke and he stabbed her in the side. She fell to her knees, gasping in pain from the wound, while he stepped back and raised his sword to deliver a final blow. 

A few seconds later, he fell to the ground dead. "That's not true," stated Alanna. Wiping her sword on his fine tunic, she limped from the room.

Alanna returned to the main room where she was supposed to have been executed. The battle was over— and the Tortallan Rogues had come back to win. Searching for her close friends, she jumped when a hand was set upon her shoulder. Turning around, she found Coram. They hugged tightly for a minute, then released each other.

"Are ye all right, lass?" he demanded, helping her over to rest against a wall. 

She sighed. "I'll live. But— how did you know we were here? And how…?"

He chuckled softly. "We received a ransom fer George 'bout a day after ye and yer brother left. Actually, that sent us somewhere else, where they weren' so friendly. We had to engage in— 'aggressive negotiations.'"

"And what's that?"

"Negotiations with swords. They hadn' expected us t' come with an army." Alanna laughed as Coram filled her in on the news of the Rogues and how they had come to rescue them. He was telling her how they had found them in the maze of a place they were in when Faithful ran over and leapt in her lap.

_I think you'd better come quick, _he told her. Coram helped her as she struggled to her feet and followed the black cat as he made his way among the dead on the floor to the other side of the room, where several Rogues were crowding around in a circle. Faithful darted through their legs and Alanna peered through, gasped, and pushed her way in. _"George!" _

George was lying wounded on the stone floor, a deep cut in his side bleeding heavily. Rispah and another Rogue were tending to it the best they could, but it continued to bleed through many layers of bandages. "Let me through," Alanna ordered, moving to kneel next to George. Reaching for her Gift, she was reminded again of the still-existent manacles on her wrist by an unpleasant jolt— she cursed.

"Here, let me see your hands, Alanna," Thom said, pushing his way through the crowd of Rogues. He was carrying a set of silver keys, which quickly freed her from the biting iron. Now she could use her healing magic. She gently placed her hands on George's side, then turned around to bark at the Rogues: "Give him space! He's not going to die!"

George took one of her hands in his own. "Hullo, lass," he said weakly. "I must be getting old if I get done like this in a small fight like that." Alanna tried to smile but couldn't. His kind hazel eyes were warm as he smiled at her. "I love ye, and I'm glad ye know where ye belong now." 

"I love you too," she whispered, bending down to kiss him tenderly on the lips. "And you're going to be fine," she assured him as purple fire flowed from her palms onto him. He sighed, released from pain, and closed his eyes.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alanna left the tent and returned to her spot next to her brother by the fire. He looked at her in question. "George is going to be fine," she said, the relief obvious in her voice. He patted her back and she sighed, closing her eyes. The Tortallan Rogues had left the Tyran Rogue capital and had set up their large camp far from it. Suddenly Thom laughed. 

Alanna eyed him suspiciously. "What is it?" she demanded.

"I told Jon I'd look out for you and contact him, but I haven't communicated with him at all since we left the palace." He thought for a moment, then reached out to say a spell into the fire.

"No!" Alanna caught her twin's hand and pulled it back. He gave her another questioning look and she shook her head. "We'll deal with Jon when we get back."

He nodded. "All right then. Well…I guess I have some explaining to do." He reached under his shirt and removed the black opal.

Alanna nodded. "All right, I'm listening," she informed him grimly. "You'd better have a good story."

Author's Note: The whole deal with Thom/black opal isn't very important. Make up your own ending to that one. The epilogue is coming out soon, it's almost written! That is where the title comes into play…there I go, giving it all away.

Please review!


	13. Epilogue

Author's Note: Thanks for being so supportive throughout this whole long process. I'm thinking about a sequel, but don't get your hopes up; I'm taking a break after working so hard to finish this! Anyway, I'm sorry if it didn't turn out the way you wanted it, but hey, that's life. Actually, I wrote the last chapter differently, read all my reviews, and changed it. Didn't I say somewhere in the beginning that I'd let the readers decide? Whatever. 

Epilogue: In Dreams

Alanna the Lioness rode slowly through the city streets of Corus on her golden mare, Moonlight. Her black cat Faithful sat perched in his cup attached to her horse's saddle. It was near dark and many shops had closed for the night, though many taverns and inns were just getting busy. It was to a tavern/inn she was headed: the new Dancing Dove, now also known as the Rising Phoenix.

A scene played itself in Alanna's mind: her last words with George Cooper, some weeks before. She had told him how she had to talk to Jon and straighten out everything before they could take their blossoming relationship any further. He had been supportive, but acted almost like she was leaving for Jon and not coming back to him. 

Jon hadn't been as supportive, but at last she had made him understand. He did understand that what she was doing was in the best interest of Tortall, which had recently become very important to him. Alanna knew he'd find someone else to love, someone who would make a good wife and Queen. His parents had been a completely different matter; Alanna actually thought they were quite relieved, but a little angry that she had "turned down" their son.

She checked her pocket watch and smiled. At that exact moment Rispah should be handing George the letter she had written to him a day before. Everything was going according to plan.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

George Cooper sat staring into the fire silently while the rest of the Rogue carried on in celebration of the new Dancing Dove/Rising Phoenix, standing above the ashes of the old one. He didn't see any reason to celebrate; he missed his love. His cousin, Rispah, sat down beside him and handed him a rolled-up piece of parchment without saying anything. She patted him on the back and left him alone again. Curious, he unrolled the paper.

__

Dear George (the note read)_,_

__

I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch with you these past weeks, 

it's just been busy getting everything straightened out. I 

hope everything's in order with the Rogue. Please tell 

everyone again that they have my sincerest thanks. 

George smiled, recognizing Alanna's handwriting. He was so absorbed in the letter that he didn't notice how quiet it had become; all the Rogues in the room had eyes on him.

__

I hope you're not angry that it took me so long to finally 

realize that I love you as more than a friend. And now 

that I know that you're the one, I want to spend the rest 

of my life with you. I hope you still feel the same way.

George's brow furrowed in confusion. Of course he felt the same way! And what was she getting at?

__

This must make no sense, so why don't I just tell you

myself?

George looked up to see the doors open and Alanna enter and smile at him as their eyes met. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her loveliness for a few more seconds as he finished the letter.

__

I just have one thing to ask of you, and I hope that 

it's not too much. After all we've been through, and 

all we'll be through together in the future, I only hope 

that you'll always save the last dance…

Alanna stepped forward and wrapped her arms around George's neck as he kissed her gently and lovingly. The room erupted in loud cheers as the Rogue celebrated the happy couple…and the note drifted to the floor.

__

…for me.

Love,

Alanna


End file.
